


Your Name tastes like Ash in the Hollows of my Mouth

by RosemaryBagels



Category: DCU
Genre: Angst, Animal Transformations, But will be together for the end, Dick is tired and overworked, Jason and Tim were a thing, Kittens, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations, They are currently taking a break, magic shenanigans, not compliant with any one cannon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7484364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosemaryBagels/pseuds/RosemaryBagels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim is back in Gotham for the first time since he and Jason agreed to take a break. The only contact Jason has had with him was the voicemail, where Tim asked if maybe they could meat up for coffee some time.</p>
<p>Jason is hopeful, but then Tim won't pick up his phone.</p>
<p>And somehow that means Jason it getting a house guest. Of the adorable kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Name tastes like Ash in the Hollows of my Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Un-Betad
> 
> Got a prompt for me? Leave it in the comments, or let me know on my tumblr, of the same name. ;)

                In Dick’s defense, he was moderately busy trying to balance shopping bags and find his keys when his phone rang, and he nearly dropped the eggs trying to grab that too, so he may have sounded angry as he answered the call.

                “Hello?”

                “Is this a bad time?” Jason asked. Dick sighed. He really did just want to make himself a sandwich and then sleep til he had to patrol, but if Jason wanted to talk, or hell anything at all, then he would happily…

                “Jason. It’s fine.” A breath. “What’s up?” Hopefully that cheer didn’t sound forced.

                “Nothing much, just. Have you heard from Tim recently?”

                “Only that he was in Gotham for the next few weeks, rather than with the Titans. Why?”

                “Do you know if he was working any long term cases?”

                “Uhh,” Dick racked his brain. He and Tim hadn’t actually talked at all recently, but Bruce had mostly kept him updated. “I mean obviously, cause it’s Tim, but nothing specific that I can remember.” There, keys in door, a turn and a hip check revealing that once again he’d forgotten to turn the kitchen light off.

                “Okay.” Dick couldn’t read the tone in Jason’s reply.

                “Have YOU heard from Tim recently?”

                “He left a message a few days ago saying he was in town and maybe we could get coffee, but he hasn’t responded to my texts or called me back. I was just wondering if you knew he was on a case, or if he was, um, ignoring me. Again.”

                “I thought you two made up from that fight,” Dick frowned as he went back to fetch the last bag of groceries from the hall floor.

                “Well, not entirely, but I thought we were getting there. Maybe I was wrong.” His brother’s voice wavered at the end, and Dick felt a wave of sympathy, and even more annoyance at Tim.

                “Bruce keeps better track of his schedule that I do,” Dick reassured. “I’ll ask him next time I see him.”

                “Thanks.” Jason did, at least, sound thankful and relieved. Dick smiled, hoping his evening might yet go as planned.

                “Can I ask a favour though?” Jason added.

.

                Tim hated everything.

                Well that was a lie, he didn’t hate Bruce, or coffee, but pretty much everything else in Gotham was right up there on his hate list.

                Starting with his goddamn phone.

                He was fairly certain he left it on his desk, but from his vantage point he really couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t really want to risk moving anymore, in case he hurt himself again.

                It kept beeping with low battery, growing more and more frantic, and the texts and phone messages kept coming in, and Tim was sure at least half of them were from Jason.

                At first, the phone was his salvation. He kept hoping someone would notice that he hadn’t picked up, and would come check on him. Then he remembered that everyone in Gotham now hated him, except Bruce and Jason. And Bruce didn’t know where this safe house was.

                Still, Tim was lying immobile trying to forget how thirsty he was, about how his stomach ached with hunger and his throat was dry, and he was too hot, and the cut on his forhead kept bleeding into his eyes even though they had stopped working and his hear hurt.

                And that goddamn fucking magitian.

                Just Fuck.

                Then he heard his window open.

                At first he thought it was Jason, which filled him with fury because he’d told him never again could he step foot in one of his private safe houses, but then the voice rang out.

                “Tim?”

                God fuck no, that was Dick.

                “Tim are you in here? Jason said you weren’t answering your phone, and asked me to come—good lord.”

                Dick must have seen the room he was in. Tim had no idea what the damage was, but it must have been bad because Dick got frantic in his search. Tim really did not want to talk to his brother, but if the choices were between that and death then…

                Tim took a breath and meowed as loud as he could.

.

                The apartment was a wreck. Dick assumed most of it was from Tim’s general untidiness, but his sitting room looked trashed. A bookcase had fallen and broken a table, there were papers everywhere, the TV was cracked, and there were indents in the wall where it looked like furniture was slammed in to them. Tim was nowhere to be found, and Dick felt a sense of foreboding coil around and start to squeeze.

                He was fully prepared to ignore the sounds of a distressed cat, before he realised it was way too close. Like in the room close.

                He found the kitten under the remains of the broken table, under the bookshelf. The shelf had crushed it’s two hind legs. A nasty splinter from the table had lodged itself in one of it’s front pawn and it had a nasty gash on it’s forehead. It also appeared to be severely dehydrated.

                Dick put it on the kitchen counter, it wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, and fetched it a small amount of water, as too much too soon could do almost as much damage as not enough. Then he went back to hunting the apartment.

                Tim had obviously gotten to Gotham, but there was no evidence of where he’d been the last few days. Dick called Bruce.

                “Tim’s last report was that he’d met a young sorcerer on Gotham’s streets, and was going to see if Zatanna could recommend a teacher for him.”

                “Magic would definitely make sense for the damage I’m seeing in this room. It looks like it was a focused blast that radiated outwards. Might have been an accident. It’s entirely possible that Tim is escorting his new friend to whomever he wants to meet.”

                “I’ll check in with Zatanna. Call if find anything else.”

                “Will do. And Bruce?” Dick waited until Bruce grunted his usual ‘go ahead’ noise. “Please keep me informed this time? I’d hate to hear it from national TV that one of my brothers was injured this time.”

                “Of course,” Bruce said. Then he hung up.

                Dick’s next call was to Jason.

                “Last time I heard Tim did not have any pets. Though Selina has taught him better than to leave a cat in danger on the streets.”

                “I can’t stick around more, this little guy needs to go to a vet. He’s dehydrated and isn’t drinking.” Dick glanced at the clock, and then swore.

                “What?” Jason sounded panicked.

                “And I need to be on patrol in an hour.”

                “Of course that’s your priority.” Jason’s voice was dark with sarcasm.

                “Jase— you know I care about Tim as much as the next guy,” Jason snorted, “But I promised Wally I’d be out there tonight, okay?”

                “Yeah.” Jason swallowed. “Yeah I get it. Listen, you take that kitten to the vet. I’ll meet you there, and make sure he’s okay. You do what you need to do.”

                “You sure?” Dick asked.

                “Tim is probably fine,” Jason stressed, “And he wouldn’t want me meddling in his personal life.”

                “Okay. Fine. Thank You.”

.

                The kitten was very small, no more than four weeks old, the vet informed Jason, though she couldn’t be positive as the kitten also looked malnourished.

                The hind legs were the worst of the damage, the kitten needing to stay with the vet for several days to be well enough that his legs could be rebroken, set, and cast properly without too much worry. The large splinter was removed, and the vet happily reported that neither of the cuts were infected, though the head one was worrying because the kitten may also have been concussed in the same blow.

                The kitten could make a full recovery in the right circumstances, fed the right food ect. Which Jason was positive would happen whether in his home or someone elses. Only he’d never be perfect because, as the vet pointed out, Jason’s new little kitten was blind.

                Jason only had to watch him slowly drink water for about 30 seconds before he decided that the small guy was his. And once the dried blood had been washed off his ebony fur, the kitten opened his clouded blue eyes for the first time. And Jason fell head over heels.

                No wonder Tim had picked the little guy up off the streets. There was a pang in Jason’s chest at the thought of his boyf— Ex-boyfriend. But until Tim came back his small kitten was Jason’s to take care of.

                Jason wondered if he had a name.

.

                Tim listened to the vet describe how long it was going to take him to recover, and wondered how this was his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. I've been dead for far too long and now I'm back. I hope.
> 
> Currently on vacation, and am trying to do some writing every day, and this is the start of it. Fingers crossed.
> 
> I mostly know where this is going, but if there is anything you'd like to see, let me know!
> 
> ~RosemaryBagels


End file.
